I Live in a House, Not a Home

I grew up in a house, not a home;
You may wonder why.
Is there any difference at all?
Well, if you know me, you'll understand why.

The house had bricks and mortar
It sheltered parents that I love,
A sibling to take care of me,
With blessings from God above.

Yet I feel most at peace 
Far from these mortar and bricks,
The world seems more understanding and open
It doesn't expect magic tricks.

I do have weaknesses
I'm not perfect, I'm me.
I try my best to reach the sky
And swim to yonder seas.

Care, appreciation, trust and concern
Were what I was looking to find.
Since I didn't find them in the 'house', 
I had to broaden my mind.

I slowly tried to spread my wings
And tested unknown storms
Learned new things about myself
And watched myself transform

I dared myself to break the limits
And watched them crumble before my might
I realized that I had the power
As long as I could put up a fight

As I return to the 'house'
The place of mortar and bricks
"Aren't you glad to be home?" they ask me
And that's when the pain really pricks.

A momentary lapse, I tell myself,
There is no gain without pain
I'll break free and climb new heights
And build my 'home' again

So This Is How My Day Ends!

On his way to school, he furtively looks around
His mother had warned him of some men, who shot down anyone they found.
He hoped it’d be safe, being a school route
Yes, they were terrorists, but surely, they wouldn’t shoot!
He hadn’t done anything wrong, he just wanted a better life
Earn well and help his mother and not perpetually live in strife.
His worst nightmare came true as a couple of burly men walked on to the road
Bang!
“So this is how my day ends!” he thought to himself, while from his chest the blood flowed.

Yet another, in a metropolis, a deemed University,
Availing the best of education and the finest hostel in the city
He had everything he wanted. At least to others it seemed
Yet he was unhappy and in silence he screamed.
He didn’t have anyone to call his own, did they not understand?
The money didn’t matter; he needed someone to hold his hand.
He suddenly wished himself in place of those boys far away
If nobody would miss him, why on earth should he stay?
He took the thought a step too far; hurling himself out of the window
“So this is how my day ends!” was his last thought with the final blow.

Somewhere, far away, a teen wrote his last board papers
It was time to begin life with fun and capers.
Partied with his friends, delicious dinner, he returned in spirits high,
Home again, he switched on the television with a tired but happy sigh.
The news channel flicked on and he cringed in dismay at the gory view
Of obscured bodies of innocent students that the terrorists mercilessly slew.
In the next minute, a suicide case flashed at the bottom of the screen
“So this is how my day ends!” he muttered, all the day’s happy memories wiped clean.

Fate deals everyone a unique and different hand,
What matters is how you play it, if you dare to make a stand.
Sometimes you lose or take yourself out of the game
Sometimes it makes no difference and you live life just the same.
You have the choice to take charge and give it your very best
Make a change wherever possible and let God take care of the rest.

Handle with care

When people brushed past her, she flinched

The touch of another’s hand would often cause her to cringe

Her brown eyes would follow their footsteps intently watching their way

She’d learnt her lesson in her younger days, she wasn’t going to fall prey

Though her mother missed her, she liked living on her own,

She was glad she had left her nest and away from it, had flown

Her mother had showered her with love and provided her with care

But the thought of home brought revulsion, there was no way she was going back into that lair

This was her own turf where she had to fend for herself

Away from the place she had fend off monsters who had hurt her little ‘self’

The memories of those monsters had left her bruised and scarred

She tried to hide them under her clothes and her tired but brave façade

She remembers when she was four,

Awaiting her cousins sitting at her front door

Hunched in a circle, they would tell each other stories at night

But these couldn’t compare with the ones that gave her fright

The youngest in the family, the apple of everyone’s eye

Pampered and loved beyond measure, then, she wasn’t shy

Of all her beloved relatives, her paternal uncle had been the best

Bringing her gifts and food galore, he cared for her, at least more than the rest

He came visiting a rare day, when she was home alone

Bringing delicious jalebis, fond of which she had grown

No one refuses such sweet delight, to herself she had thought

As she gobbled up and enjoyed the entire lot.

But then her whole world went hazy. Had she relished it too much?

She fell to the floor, and then recoiled, as she felt her uncle’s touch

There was a look behind those eyes that she had never seen before

A tighter grasp that roughly caught her and pulled her off the floor

Her hands went numb and feet went cold, she stared blankly, totally aghast

Seeing his face inches from hers, was the moment she remembered last!

When she woke up to her senses, she felt so ashamed

What was she to tell her mother? Could she be the one blamed?

Her body wasn’t hers any more, it felt impure and defiled

She felt dirty within her own skin and couldn’t wash away the memory even if she tried

Her heart pounding, she made her way to her mother’s room

Hard as she tried, she couldn’t describe how she had just been consumed

Gradually she lost her voice and turned into a shell

Barely alive, she was living a different kind of hell

Her soul had been tampered with, it could never again be whole

With her body and her mind, her innocence, he stole

She tried to come to terms with it and bravely faced all

When he turned up home again, with his usual charm, calling her a doll!

The terror that ran through her heart, she hid away petrified

She tried to speak to her mother again but remained tongue-tied

“How can that demon stand there, so brazen and so bold?

His desire has turned me into an object, an empty shell, so cold”

The words remained in her heart and did not make it through

His terrible act kept recurring till the age of twelve she grew

Bearing this heavy burden, she had turned into a ghost

She had lost faith and hope in the people she loved the most

Since she couldn’t find the words, in a letter she wrote

That she couldn’t live life anymore and planned to slit her throat.

This set off the alarm and brought attention to her call

Her parents found the letter and saved her before her fall

Now she lives in the city, she has left behind her past

A meagre income, a simple job, but enough for her to last

The memories still haunt her, she cannot get over the scare

She now walks around with a signboard saying, "I’m broken. Handle with care.”

A worthy opponent

My love, my darling,
Have no place for fear
You just keep getting stronger
Year after year.

The bruises and the scars you bear
Are not just reminders of the past
They are the laurels that you carry
You've endured, they could not last

With each blow, you learned,
You came back stronger than before.
You uncovered that fighting spirit
And realised you had a lot more in store

They fought and tried their hardest
But only left a graze.
They can't put out that storming fire
That, in you, is ablaze!

The battles of life unendingly
May try to pull you down
But they just fail to see
You already wear the victor's crown.

Nothing can hurt you, you'll remain untouched,
For years you will proudly stand,
'Cause you are one sturdy rock
Not just another grain of sand!